


Ghostwatch

by grovestep



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, they hunt ghosts and cryptids, they're dumb college students but it doesn't focus on that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grovestep/pseuds/grovestep
Summary: Jack, Ana, and Gabe have their own webshow called Ghostwatch. They're just three regular people pulling stunts, creating monsters, and fabricating ghost encounters. Until one day, shit gets very real.





	1. Episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all my Overwatch zine friends for supporting me and encouraging me to follow through on this idea.  
> Ya'll in for a wild ride.  
> A special thanks to AughtPunk for the title suggestion.  
> Note: Skimp tags because I'm not 100% sure where this fic is going. Will update accordingly!

The camera jittered into focus, pulling into view a dilapidated house with a yard that hadn’t seen a lawnmower in a decade. Jack Morrison stepped into the frame, his attention trained somewhere in the middle distance behind the camera. The cameraman said something that the mic didn’t pick up, but Jack nodded, beckoning with one hand. The camera jittered again before coming to a rest, the cameraman’s fingers brushing against the mic and creating deafening feedback. Gabriel stepped out from behind the setup, crowding into the frame with Jack. His hands were jammed into his hoodie pocket and his beanie was pulled down over his ears. He glowered at Jack. Jack either didn’t notice, or pretended he didn’t see.

  
“Are we rolling?” Jack asked.

  
“Of course we’re rolling. That’s what the green light means.”

  
Jack snorted, elbowing Gabriel in the ribs. “Don’t be an asshole,” he said, then turned back to the camera with a stellar smile. Gabe braced for impact, knowing full well what was coming.

  
“HELLO AND WELCOME BACK TO GHOSTWATCH!”

  
No matter how much Gabriel braced himself, the enthusiasm and volume that Jack managed to achieve in their intro still rattled his teeth and rang in his eardrums.

  
“I’m Jack,” he said, pausing a beat.

  
“And I’m Gabe,” Gabriel said, taking his cue.

  
“Ana can’t be here tonight because she’s down with the flu,” Jack said. “So we’re going to have to explore this haunted house without her.” He stepped aside, revealing the derelict house behind him. “Do you want to give the viewers a rundown on the history of the house, Gabe?”

  
Gabe shifted from foot to foot, looking at his palm where he had hastily scrawled some made-up history about the “haunted” house. He wavered a moment, realizing all he had written was smudged by his sweat. He cursed under his breath. This was usually Ana’s job. Gabe was fine with staying behind the camera and making occasional cameos when they were exploring. He looked up at Jack with a panicked expression.

  
“ _Make something up_ ,” Jack said in a rushed whisper.

  
“ _Thanks, Captain Obvious!_ ” he whispered back, before putting on his best smile for the camera. He cleared his throat. “So, this is the uh...Poltergeist House. Many years ago, some old guy went nuts and killed his only daughter. So now she takes the form of a vindictive spirit, looking to...steal the eyes of anyone who dare to enter.”

  
_Smooth_ , Jack mouthed. Gabe flipped him off just out of frame.

  
“We gotta be real careful here, folks. We don’t want to get our eyes snatched,” Jack quipped. “Let’s go in.”

  
Gabe was thankful for that. He knew Jack was giving him an out. The blond man barely knew how to operate his own phone, let alone their camera. Gabriel was the only one of the trio who really knew the ins and outs of the tech. He took his place behind the device once more, comfortable to be the gruff, disembodied voice giving Jack hell. He detached the cam from the tripod and followed Jack up the stoop.

  
Jack pushed open the giant oak door. Gabriel got a fantastic shot of the door creaking open, slowly revealing the inside. The door opened into a hallway. To the immediate left was a staircase that lead upstairs. Jack ignored it and went straight forward. Gabe was sure to get shots of the walls, which were covered in graffiti. He turned the camera quickly away when he realized a giant, purple dick was plastered on one of the surfaces. That was a quick way to get demonetized.

  
“It was in the room just ahead that it happened,” Jack said, playing off of Gabriel’s story. “The old man killed her right in the kitchen.”

  
They had scouted the house out before filming, making sure everything was in place. The last thing they wanted was to get jumped by a squatter or killed by a roof falling in. Jack was sure to close the kitchen door before they left on their preliminary expedition. He claimed it created more suspense.

  
He hovered at the door now, one hand on the doorknob, his other hand pressed flat against the wood. Gabe stifled a laugh. He looked like a parent eavesdropping on their kid in the bedroom, ready to burst in at the first sign of trouble.

  
“You gonna go in or what, Jackie?” Gabe asked.

  
Jack shot him a glare and slowly opened the door. Inch by inch the kitchen became visible. A dirty, scratched up sink filled with some unknown liquid. The once-white refrigerator, doors open to expose the rotten food inside. The roof sagged over the stove, and both Jack and Gabe made a point to avoid that area.

  
Jack pulled out a small device, presenting it to the camera. “You guys remember this right?” He clicked on the device, and it began rapidly shuffling through radio stations. The static noise filled the small kitchen, with the occasional bit of a word coming through the chatter. Jack flipped it back off. He pulled up a chair at the small kitchen table, which they had pre-cleared for their “conversation” with the spirits.

  
Gabe sat the camera down on the table, angling it so they were both in the shot. He pulled up a chair across from Jack, leaning back and stretching his legs out as Jack explained the uses for the device for new viewers.

  
“This is a ghost scanner. It flips through hundreds of radio channels in seconds, giving the ghosts a medium to speak to us,” he said, flipping the device between his hands. “We’re going to ask the ghost in this house a few questions and see if we can get some answers.”

  
He turned the scanner back on. The noise made Gabe grit his teeth, but he smiled through it for Jack. “Ask it why it wants eyeballs,” Gabe said, leaning forward as though to take the scanner. Jack pulled it closer to his chest.

  
“Wait your turn, Mr. Reyes,” he said, his laugh drowned out by the static. He then spoke loudly, addressing the whole room. “If the girl who died here is still lingering in this house, can you tell us your name?”

  
The scanner jibbered static and broken words for a few moments. Jack grunted, beginning to repeat his question before a voice came over the device, barely discernible between the white noise.

  
“Jas…” _Scrrrrt._ “Mine."

  
“Jasmine? Your name is Jasmine?”

  
Jack’s second question was met with more static. This time, the ghost didn’t reply. Jack motioned to Gabe.

  
“Uh, what happened to you, Jasmine?” Gabe asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

  
“....loud bang,” the voice wavered over the static. “Then dark.”

  
Jack quirked his eyebrow. Gabe shrugged his shoulders. He waved his hand at Jack.

  
“Why are you still here?”

  
“Want…” the voice said. It repeated the word over and over and over, the voice getting louder above the static. Gabe fought the urge to plug his ears.

  
“What do you want?” Gabe shouted over the cacophony.

  
“Your... _eyes!_ ”

  
Gabe took his cue and flipped off the video feed. The audio was still live, picking up their scuffling in the small kitchen. There was a loud thud as a chair fell over. Jack had turned off the scanner, shutting out the terrible static and garbled words.

  
“What the hell was that?” Jack shouted.

  
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Gabe shouted back, picking the camera up from the table.

  
The light seemed to have been sapped from the room, casting them in darkness. Jack smiled, looking at Gabe out of the corner of his eye. Gabriel always had a talent for their theatrics. He gave him a thumbs up.

  
Gabe nodded, flipping the video feed back on. Jack’s expression changed from satisfied to wild-eyes terror in microseconds. Gabe forced his hands to shake, which caused the camera to jitter, giving the impression that he was literally trembling in fear. He panned the camera back to where they had been sitting. One of the chairs was overturned in the corner, and in the other chair was a woman.

  
Her skin seemed to glow in the dim light. Her hair was streaked gray and pulled into a braid over one shoulder. She wore a simple dress that was stained down one side with...something. Something dark and red.

  
Her attention was focused on something on the table; a cup and saucer. She brought the cup to her mouth. Jack let out a slight hiss through his teeth.

  
“ _Ana_ ,” he whispered, breaking scene. “Ghosts don’t drink tea.”

  
Ana paused, looking at Jack out of the corner of her eye. She let out a sigh, putting the cup back down. “Well this one does,” she said. “Besides, Jack, you’ve never seen a real ghost. How do you know?”

  
Jack started to say something, but stopped himself. He let out a frustrated grunt. “Fine, have it your way. But you deal with the comment section.”

  
Ana shrugged, looking to Gabe. He gave her a thumbs up to signal that they were, indeed, still rolling. She took a deep breath and resumed character.

  
Ana slowly turned her head toward the camera, revealing the red mess that was the other side of her face. At that precise moment, she let out a blood curdling scream. Gabe prayed that none of the neighbors called the cops. This would be a hard one to explain.

  
“J-Jasmine?” Jack stammered.

  
“Get out,” Ana said, casting her voice as low as she could.

  
“We want to help you, Jasmine, it’s okay. We won’t hurt you,” Jack said, stepping forward, his hands out like he was approaching an injured animal.

  
“Jack, you can’t reason with a ghost!” Gabe said, reaching out and grabbing one of the blond man’s sleeves. He yanked him back.

  
“My...you have pretty eyes,” Ana said, getting up from the chair. She let the legs skid against the hardwood, punctuating her statement. “Mind if I… _take them?_ ”

  
Now it was Jack’s turn to grab Gabriel by the shirt and yank him out of the room. Gabe followed suit, making sure to handle the camera as sloppily as possible. He turned the camera over his shoulder, getting a shot of the “ghost” chasing after them.

  
They clattered down the front steps, landing flat on their asses. Gabe got one last shot of Ana standing in the doorway, leering at them in her blood stained dress and ruined face. He thought he caught a glimpse of a looming shadow in the foyer, but he shrugged it off.

  
_Camera always fucks with my eyes, he thought_ , shutting the camera off.


	2. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe, Jack and Ana plan their next episode, and employ the help of everyone's favorite cowboy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not have a beta! If you're someone interested in being a beta reader for me, please contact me. I don't bite and I'm a disaster. I'm sure we'll get along fine.  
> My Twitter: @grovesteps

Gabriel sat on the couch at Jack’s apartment, feet propped up on the coffee table and his laptop balanced on his knees. He worked on editing the Poltergeist House video while Ana and Jack bickered over the idea for the next episode. They were committed to posting a video a week, despite having jobs and classes to attend to. Sometimes, Gabe felt ran absolutely thin, but he loved his work. Filming and editing were two of Gabe’s passions. 

He was thankful that he met the blond man from Indiana in one of his film courses. The guy stuck out like a sore thumb. Gabriel had figured he was a football player getting a creative arts credit in, but was pleasantly surprised when he found Jack was majoring in theater. He wasn’t a prodigy by any means, but Jack had an air about him that just commanded the camera.  
Ana was one of Jack’s best friends. Gabe was skeptic about how a finance major could be passionate about film (perhaps he bought into just a _few_ stereotypes), but Ana had a talent for special effects makeup, and never failed to impress him when they needed something bloody. She was the official co-host, and while not being as a commanding a presence as Jack, she gave as good as she got, and played one hell of a ghost. 

He drummed his fingers on the touchpad of the laptop as the video processed. He felt good about the shots he managed to get, though this episode was strenuous to cut, edit and censor. He really needed to watch his copious use of the F-bomb in the moment. It only lead to more work later. It didn’t help that there was a giant purple phallus on the wall (that was not there when they checked the house). 

Gabe sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he looked over his shoulder at Jack and Ana. Jack was gesticulating wildly, talking about Mothman. 

“Jack, honey,” Ana said, her voice slow and pointed, like talking to a child. Gabe smirked. He knew Jack was in for it. “Mothman is from Virginia. We are in Los Angeles.”

“So?” Jack huffed, crossing his arms. He may as well have pouted his lip.

“ _So_ , we’d get more flack than praise for a California Mothman,” Gabe said. “Let the Virginians have their bug dude. You’re not fitting this ass in spandex.”

“Fine, then what’s _your_ idea, huh?” Jack challenged. 

Gabe stroked his goatee in thought, setting the laptop onto the coffee table. He got up to look at the idea board Jack had on the wall. It was covered in pictures, post-it notes, and push pins. They’d covered plenty of hauntings, alien encounters, the occasional cryptid. 

“I don’t want another episode where one of us is the monster just yet,” he said. He ran his fingers over the corkboard, stopping at one of the images tacked there. “How about werewolves?” He pulled down the picture of a hulking, hairy beast.

Ana laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Gabe, werewolves? How is that _not_ one of us dressing up?”

“Hear me out, _pendejo_ ,” he huffed. “There’s been reports of bizarre animal attacks up in Big Bear. It could be a two-part episode. The viewers eat that shit up.”

Jack steepled his fingers, leaning forward on his elbows. “Go on,” he said, drawing out the ‘o’ sounds.

“So, we take a trip up there. It gives me a chance to get some shots of the scenery and take a break from heavy editing,” Gabe said, going to sit with them around the kitchen table. “We get some exposition. Plant some footsteps, or pawsteps, or whatever.” He waved his hand. “Really set the mood and shit. Then we end on a cliffhanger.”

Ana still looked skeptical, her brow knit in thought. “Okay, but who will be the werewolf in the second part? It would be odd if one of us disappeared after being there for the first half.”

“We can get Jesse to do it. He’d barely need any makeup,” Gabe said.

“McCree? The guy that talks and dresses like he’s in a John Wayne film?” Jack asked incredulously. He leaned forward farther, encroaching on Gabe’s personal space. “The guy who is _still_ undeclared in our junior year?”

“Can you name a better werewolf, Jackie? Or are you volunteering?” Gabe asked, leaning forward to challenge Jack in his space.

Jack elevated his chin, keeping eye contact with Gabe. He grit his teeth. He knew that Gabe was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. The editor drove him up a wall and challenged him at every corner. Sometimes he just wanted to punch that sly smirk off his face. 

Gabe was relentless. He wanted Jack to know that just because he was gorgeous (come on, anyone with eyes could see that) and the head of the trio, he didn’t get final say in everything. Gabriel had dealt with plenty of his kind. While he wasn’t a jock, he was still that type of person that thought he could bat his stupid blue eyes and get people to conform to his will. 

Ana sighed, rolling her eyes. “Are you two done posturing?” she asked, waving a hand in front of her nose. “It reeks of testosterone in here.”

“Once Jack stops being a diva,” Gabe said. He crossed his arms, eyes never leaving the blond.

“Me? A diva?” Jack said, clutching a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt, really.”

Gabe reached out and flicked Jack’s nose, making him scrunch up his face. The tension dissolved as quick as it arose. 

They bickered more than she and Jack did. They were both so passionate and sure of themselves, it was natural for those energies to clash every so often. Ana loved how they could have a heated argument, then reset like nothing happened. Even if they were to beat the hell out of each other, they’d end up laughing it off. 

Jack grunted, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. Gabe took it as a victory. He poked his tongue out at Jack, who flipped him off. 

“So, Jesse is our werewolf?” Ana asked.

“On one condition,” Jack said.

Gabe quirked an eyebrow. “Let me guess. So long as he dresses up as a werewolf and climbs into bed with you?” 

Jack’s face reddened. “N-No! Why would you say something like that?” he stammered. “I was going to say so long as we can use his van to drive up there!”

Ana pulled a disgusted face. “Let me get this straight. You had an issue with Jesse coming, but you have no issue climbing into the back of his van. His van that smells like stale Pabst, cheap cigars, and In-n-Out?” 

Jack put his hands up, the blush on his cheeks slowly dissipating, “Hey. If you want to use a ride service to get there, feel free. Sorry, Gabe, but your motorcycle and my shitty junker aren’t going to cut it.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t totaled your pickup,” Gabe grumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Gabe said. “We leave for the forest this weekend, then.”

\--

Getting Jesse on board was easy. Gabe showed up to his dorm room with a case of beer (carefully smuggled in) and a box of cigars. He knocked on the door. There was a clatter and a groan from the other side before the scruffy face of Jesse McCree peered out at him.

“Oh, hey Gabe,” he drawled. He was shirtless and clad in boxers, his cowboy hat casting his face in shadow. His eyes immediately landed on the six pack tucked under the editor’s arm. “Whatcha need this time?” he asked, opening the door to reveal his room. 

It never failed to make Gabe balk. The man lived in chaos. There were clothes, beer cans, and fast food detritus _everywhere_. Jesse clicked his tongue, taking the beer from Gabe.  
“C’mon, now. You always look like yer about to implode every time ya stop by.” 

“Jesse, there is a pair of underwear on the ceiling fan.”

“Oh, that there is,” Jesse said, snatching the boxers down and tossing them into the corner. 

“What does your roommate think?”

“Who, Genji? Half this stuff is his,” Jesse said, kicking aside a pair of neon green boxers before plopping down on his bed. He pulled one of the cans from the plastic rings, cracking it open. He tipped the can toward Gabe. “So, what can I do for ya?”

“Well, uh…we need a werewolf for the shoot this weekend,” Gabe said, sitting beside Jesse, careful not to touch any of the stains on the sheets. 

“Werewolf, huh?” Jesse stroked his beard, taking a long sip of the beer. “Dunno if a six pack a’ Blue Moon is gonna cut it.”

Gabe sighed, taking the pack of cigars out of his pocket. He threw them into Jesse’s lap. The cowboy beamed, turning the pack over in one hand. “You know me good, Reyes. You got yourselves a werewolf.”

“We also need your van.”

“Figured. Wasn’t no way Jack would have me along without my baby. How is Jackie boy doin’, anyhow?” Jesse asked, watching Gabe out of the corner of his eye. 

Gabe flexed his jaw and crossed his arms. “He’s good. Still an asshole. Still stupidly good looking,” he said measuredly, unsure what Jesse was looking for. 

“Sooo...you tapped that yet?”

Gabe thought he might actually combust. His face heated and he tugged his beanie down over his ears, hiding their red sheen. He glared at Jesse, who was smiling around the rim of his can.

“Fuck off,” Gabe snapped. “Jack is just an asshole friend who happens to be hot, like you.”

Jesse raised his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m flattered, doll. But if you don’t, I will.”

Gabe snorted, rolling his eyes, “Jack wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. It was hard enough convincing him to let you come.”

Jesse winked, crumpling the now empty can in one hand. “He just ain’t seen me lay on the charm.”

“Have at him, cowboy. I bet he shoots you down the first time you wink at him,” Gabe sneered. 

“You got a bet,” Jesse said, punching Gabe in the arm. Gabe smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

—

The back of Jesse’s van smelled like bad decisions. The white panel van was painted with a desert mural on one side, while the other had “It’s High Noon” scrawled in towering font. The back of the van had shag carpeting that reeked, and the only seating was the front bench made of peeling red vinyl. Gabe was crammed in the back alongside Ana and their equipment. Jack was at the wheel, not trusting Jesse to get them there without a near-death experience. Jesse rode shotgun, not trusting Jack to drive his baby.

_And_ , Gabe thought, _to “lay on the charm.”_

Jesse leaned close to Jack, talking in hushed tones. To Gabe’s surprise, Jack smiled and laughed. 

“Gabe, you’re brooding,” Ana said, resting a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. Gabe grit his teeth, prying his eyes away from Jesse’s courting. He looked at Ana, who had one eyebrow cocked at him. 

He rolled his eyes. “What? I brood. It’s what I do. When am I not brooding?”

“I can name a few instances,” she said. 

Gabe held his tongue. He ran his hand across the dingy shag carpeting. He tried not to think of what was hiding in between the pieces of red fabric. He looked back at Ana. “He’s winning the bet.”

“What bet?”

Gabe cast a glance at the duo, making sure they were too busy to pay them any attention. “I bet Jesse that Jack would turn him down as soon as he even tried any of that charm shit.”

Ana rolled her eyes. “Never make a bet with that man, Gabe. He’s been gambling since he popped out of the womb.”

A sudden crooning came from the front seat. Jesse had his feet propped up on the dash, a cigar in his mouth and his head back. He belted out the lyrics to _Hound Dog_ at the top of his lungs. Jack laughed along and tapped his fingers to the beat. Ana couldn’t help but laugh. She clapped a hand over her mouth. 

_Shoot me_ , Gabriel mouthed. He fell back onto the carpet, the film equipment prodding into his back. 

“Jack, you better stop at the next scenic pull-off before Gabe melts into the shag,” Ana said over Jesse’s raucous singing. 

Jack gave a thumbs-up in the rearview mirror. 

When they came to a halt, Gabriel threw open the back doors, almost throwing himself over the side of the cliff that overlooked LA. He scowled at Jesse as he loped over to the edge. Gabe briefly debated pushing the cowboy off. 

He decided murder wasn’t something he was prepared to go to jail for and grabbed his camera from the back of the van instead. He toyed with some of the settings before turning it on and panning across the view. If they had had more time, he would have loved to do a timelapse. 

Gabe shooed McCree out of the shots, since he was supposed to be their werewolf. He got a shot of Ana leaning over the rails, looking off into the distance while her hair blew in the wind. She turned toward the camera and smiled, as though she had been caught. It made Gabe grin from ear to ear. 

He panned the camera to Jack. He looked like a Boy Scout troop leader. All blond hair and blue eyes and tanned skin. He sat on the rail with his legs dangled over the side. Gabe was afraid he might fall, but the blond man had a sure grip on the rail. He leaned back on his hands and tossed Gabe a look over his shoulder. It was a cocky grin, one he was used to when they were getting into trouble. 

Ana pressed into Gabe’s side and craned her head to look at the digital image projected on the camera’s screen. She smiled and pinched his side. “Your turn,” she said as she took the camera from him. Gabe shot her a glare, but didn’t argue. He disliked being on camera, but couldn’t object to making a cameo in some B-roll shots.

He leaned against the rails beside Jack. He took out a cigarette and lit it up. The smoke wraithed around his face and obscured his features. He smirked at the camera as he flicked his ashes toward Jack, who laughed and took a jab at Gabe’s shoulder. Careful not to send Jack sailing over the side, he grabbed the back of Jack’s shirt and gave him a tug. Jack lost his balance and tumbled back onto the ground. He glared up at Gabe, who was taking another drag from his cig. 

Jack grabbed Gabe’s ankles and yanked them out from under him. Gabe landed on his ass with a momentous _thump_.

“Smoking kills!” Jack said between gasps of laughter. 

“Yea, and I’ll kill you after that!” Gabe said and flicked his cigarette to the side. He grappled with jack on the ground, getting him in a headlock. Jack bit his arm, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make Gabe wince. “Hey, that’s dirty!” he laughed, not relenting his grip.

“Like you fight clean,” Jack said through grit teeth. 

“Tell me in the best editor ever and I’ll let you go,” Gabe said, unaffected by Jack’s squirming. 

Jack huffed, his hands in Gabe’s arms in an attempt to pry them off. His eyes flicked up to Ana, who was still rolling. He bit the inside of his cheek and grumbled. 

“What was that, Jackie?”

“You’re the best editor…” Jack said louder. 

“Ever.”

“ _Ever_ ,” Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. 

Gabe released Jack, earning a punch to his arm. Jack rubbed his neck and laughed through his nose. Gabe gave him a shit-eating grin and flipped him off. 

Jesse leaned against the van, one leg propped up while he puffed on his cigar. He watched the two tussle with an easy grin. Jesse had competition, whether Gabe realized it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ao3 makes everything seem so much shorter, when this was 10+ pages on Google Docs.  
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated.  
> If you'd like to chat with me or suggest an idea, head on over to my Twitter. @grovesteps


End file.
